Charles Hallé conducts
Berlioz’s Faust in London

A review published in

The Times, 24 May 1880.

Charles Hallé made the acquaintance of Berlioz when he
went to Paris in 1836; the two men subsequently became lifelong friends. In 1848
Hallé went to England and eventually settled in Manchester. He championed and
performed Berlioz’s music in his lifetime and beyond (see Charles Hallé
in Berlioz in London:
friends and acquaintances).

In May 1880 Hallé conducted two performances of La Damnation de Faust on two subsequent evenings,
the first of which was reviewed by the music critic of The Times.

We have transcribed the text of this review from a print-out of
an image of the article in
a database accessed at the British Library in London (Colindale site); the syntax and
spelling of the original have been preserved, but we have corrected obvious
typesetting errors.

Berlioz’s “Faust”

When, two months ago, Mr. Charles Hallé for the first time introduced his
orchestra to a metropolitan audience, we remarked, “It is difficult to see
why Mr. Hallé did not identify his début as a conductor with the
introduction of an unfamiliar and important work—such, for example, as Berlioz’s
Faust, recently given with enormous success at Manchester.” The
performance thus suggested took place on Friday night [21 May] at St. James’s-hall,
and the result was such as fully to warrant Mr. Hallé’s confidence in the
merits of the work and the taste of the London public. Not only was the hall
crowded, but the attention with which everything was listened to and the
enthusiasm excited by certain passages tended to show that English amateurs no
longer reject music on account of its originality or even eccentricity. Mr.
Hallé’s zeal and spirit of enterprise in arranging the performance cannot be
commended sufficiently. Orchestra and chorus, consisting together of 300
performers, had been brought to London, and the fire and accuracy with which
some of the most difficult music perhaps ever written was rendered testified to
the care and the intelligence of the conductor. The services of the chorus
master, Mr. E. Hecht, should not be forgotten. As regards freshness of voices
and perfect ensemble, the performance on Friday night has indeed seldom
been matched in London, where the barbarous custom of rehearsing chorus and
orchestra separately still prevails. On the choice of his soloists Mr. Hallé
may be congratulated. Miss Mary Davies (Marguerite) has a beautiful soprano
voice, and gave a most sympathetic rendering of what is perhaps the finest
specimen of genuine melody in the work, Marguerite’s song, “D’amour l’ardente
flamme,” the French equivalent of Goethe’s “Meine Ruh’ ist hin.”
The ballad of the “King of Thule,” set in many different ways by
different composers, and called by Berlioz “chanson gothique,” also
was sung with excellent effect. Mr. Lloyd was an admirable Faust, his fine
declamation of the so-called “Invocation of Nature” being specially
laudable. His duet with Marguerite was among the chief successes of the evening.
To Mr. Henschel the very difficult part of Mephistopheles was assigned. It is
here that Berlioz gives vent to his love of what he himself calls “Les
grotesques dans la musique.” The celebrated “Romance of the
Flea” and the “Serenade,” both known from Goethe’s poem, are
curiosities of music as effective as they are difficult to render. Gounod’s
Mephistopheles is mild and innocent by the side of these strange utterances.
Herr Henschel acquitted himself of his task in the manner of an intelligent and
gifted singer. To Mr. Hilton the minor part of Brander had been given. He also
did his duty creditably. We need not say that, as a whole, the rendering on
Friday night was infinitely superior to the only one previously given in London—at
Her Majesty’s Theatre in June, 1878. On that occasion the celebrated M.
Pasdeloup was the conductor, but he had been unable, in one or two rehearsal, to
make the chorus acquainted with more than the rudiments of its task, and, with
the exception of Miss Minnie Hauk, an excellent Marguerite, the soloists were
equally unsatisfactory. In connexion with that performance we gave an account of
the character of the composition, as well as of the merits of its author. We are
thus relieved of the task of analyzing so complicated a work within the limited
space at present at our disposal. That La Damnation de Faust is the
result of rare intellectual power and of a truly astonishing amount of technical
skill is a proposition which the most determined adversaries of Berlioz will
hesitate to dispute. His orchestration is always masterly, his contrapuntal
devices are marvellously ingenious, and his poetic intentions are frequently
marked by depth and pathos. Even the element of popularity is not entirely
wanting, vide, for example, the spirited instrumentation of a well-known
Hungarian march in the first part, the soldiers’ chorus, and the airy and
graceful “Dance des Sylphes,” with its quaint basso ostinato
sounded by the muted violoncellos. Differences of opinion may arise when the
question comes to be asked whether Berlioz possessed that absolute self-control
which is synonymous with the sense of beauty so indispensable in all true art.
Berlioz’s music is akin to Blake’s poetry and painting. Mysticism, not to
say mystification, was one of his chief aims, originality at any price his
watchword. To such an attitude of mind if matched with great power much should
be forgiven. But there are limits even to the licence of genius, and these, some
may think, are transgressed in the wild orgy of the fiends significantly headed “Faust livré aux flammes—Pandemonium.” But even here the cleverness
of the writing and some truly astounding orchestral effects must be admitted. On
the other hand, there are emanations of purest beauty, such as Marguerite’s
song, already referred to, beginning with a gentle andante and rising to a
climax of passion. The Easter hymn is full of beauty, and the students’ chorus
mingling with the soldiers’ song in the finale of the second part is a noble
specimen of choral combination. Again, in the “Ride to the Abyss” rare
power of graphic description is evinced, and the instances of true dramatic
pathos are too numerous to be referred to in these cursory remarks. La
Damnation de Faust, whatever its merits in the highest artistic sense may
be, is a monumental effort of individual power. Wild eccentricities and rare
beauties are found together side by side, and the result, if not altogether
harmonious, is at least highly interesting. It is difficult to define Berlioz’s
permanent position in the history of music. During his lifetime he was
shamefully neglected ; at present he is all the rage in Paris. When
this fit of reaction has passed away it will be possible to determine the hold
he has really gained on the heart of his nation. Mr. Hallé and his chorus and
orchestra must once more be congratulated on the admirable rendering of so
difficult and important of a work. The performance was repeated on Saturday
night.